Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1887-04-15


you cvet set eyes on. Ne and him wa:
as goodlas engaged, but we had a spat
and parted, and the very next week he
feA ovei Kings Cross Cliff cf dark
night aud was killed. Bless you, l felt
as if the whole world had come to an
end but here l be now married to Hiram
Yorkc, Pnd as happy as most folks.
Hiram amt perfection, to be sure, but
Abe wai pretty partial to old rye, too,
or he'd never have drove his old horse
over Kings Cross Cliff instead O. round
it. And Ireckon things apays happens
for the, best, take one year with an
other" eontentedly added the stout ma
tron, as she stirred a saucepanful Of
onions With ponderous tin spoon, while
Mary Folyott WINGED at the unpalatable
parallel.
What was there in common between
handsome Hugh Derby and the lucklcss
hero who, once on time, peddled tin
aud drank too much2
The mullins were baked, the eggs fried
to the exact shade of golden brown. and
the breakfast for 'the gentleman in
Number Nineteen" safely off her mini,
when Mary Folyott stole down to the
graveyard once more, with a basket of
delicious white rhododendrons, which a
little colored girl had just brought her
from the woods.
q done knowed yo' loved white po-
sizes, mlssee," said Cora Anne, who was
in Miss Folyotts class at Sunday school,
$50 l done brung yo' desc yarl"
1t was golden noontide nov; the clus-
ters of sweet fern exhaling aromatic
scents; the COWS standing in the shadow
of hazel copsess the ocean sparkling like
plain Of blue diamonds.
The tsk Of decorating the graves
for wkaeh Kings Cross usually turned
out Wits band, a covered wagon, and
a concouise OF struggling villagers
would not commence until three o'clock.
'sThey shall see that he has not been
forgotten said Mary, as she toiled along
under the bowery apple branches, and
past the ripping music of the little
brook. "Oh, Hugh-my Hugh-if only
| could recall one short hour of the
pastw
She strewcd the white rhododendrons
on the green sod, as the words escaped
invountalily from her lips.
"Oh, Hugh-dear Hugh-if ] could
only speak to you once again." she
uttered, aloud.
"Speak, then, dearest Maryl My
Mary, if I were indeed dead and in
heaven, think I could not be happier
than l am now."
The basket of rhododendrons fell to
the ground. Mary Folyott wou d have
fallen, too, if she had not been caught
in pair of strong arms.
Darling Mary, do not turn so white "
pleaded her lover 81 am not a ghost
no phantom am Hugh Derbys self,
alive and well, come back to lay my heart
at your feet, and claim the love that is
so precious to me. 1t isn't 50 impossi-
bic as you think. Pm not dead, and
never have been dead. But the poor
fellow who had the bed next to mine in
the Accident Ward of the St. Monica's
Hospital, died the night they brought
him in, and the cards at our bed-heads
got accidenty changed. was No. A,
and when my number was affixed
to another bed, lost my
identity at once. We are not
Smith or Brown in hospital.
Mary-we are only Six or Four, as the
case may be. So when poor Maurice
BIenhem died, In the bed labelled a.,
they turned to their books and made out
burial certificate for Hugh Derby, one
Of the victims of the railroad accident.
And before / recovered from the brain
fever that followed on the blow l re
ce.ved from the end of the car seat when
fell they had me duly buried with all
the honors of book and bill. couldn't
make 'cm believe that l was Hu .h Der
by, and not Maurice Blenheim, and SO
l left fl trying. And, after all, what
did it matter muchl What charm had
life left for me?"
But, Hugh, l loved you"
''But, NJ ry, did not know it; and
so dawdled away the sunshiny hours on
those sweet F oridian shores, thinking
how strange it felt to be wandering
alone, like disembodied spirit, without
any identity at all, and half disposed to
wonder for what especial use God had
given me back my life, when all of a
sudden the strong desire came upon me
10 travel northward to Kings Cross-tc
look upon my own grave. Mary, l be-
lieve to heaven it was your love attract
ing me like an invisible magnet. Sweet
heart, you have brought me back to you
and now l never shall go away without
YOU"
ell don't want you to" whispered
Mary Folyott, her soft cheeks suffused
with bushes her eyes shining like, wet
stars. ."Oh, Hugh, I am SO very, very
happy. haven't deserved this, Hugh,
but will never be silly or capriciout
again"